


Ever since the rain, I've been waking on my own

by bonsaiScribbler



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse, Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Modern AU, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:17:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9554723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonsaiScribbler/pseuds/bonsaiScribbler
Summary: Blinding pain, the screech of tires on the wet pavement, and the feeling of raindrops on his cheek. That's all he can remember. He knows there's something else, something off, but he can't put his finger on it.John wakes up in a hospital, with his family surrounding him. Once he recovers, his father takes him home with them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native speaker, so if you find any mistakes, let me know.

Blinding pain, the screech of tires on the wet pavement, and the feeling of raindrops on his cheek. That's all he can remember. He knows there's something else, something off, but he can't put his finger on it.

When he comes to he's in a white room, people sitting around his bed, looking concerned and exhausted. He doesn't recognize them at first, stares at them, waiting for his memory to start working again. It takes a while, a few days, maybe two, until he realizes that those people are his family. 

He wants to ask what happened, but the pain in his jaw prevents him from speaking. A teenager, his sister, tells him that he won't be able to open his mouth for a while, and that the weird cable in his nose is actually a feeding tube. 

Everything hurts, but there's something else, something he can't quite remember.

They tell him that he was in a car accident, that he was really lucky, that he could have been dead. He doesn't remember, but they insist that it wasn't his fault, that someone drove into the side of his car. He knows it's not the complete story, but for now he'll accept it.

Over time the nagging feeling gets stronger and stronger, his sister oblivious to his agitation, tells him that they're going home soon, and that everything is going to be fine. A voice in his head keeps telling him how wrong this is, that there's something he's missing. 

It's been a week when they decide to see if he can eat on his own. They remove the feeding tube, help him sit up, and a nurse feeds him. It should be awkward, he thinks, an almost grown man being fed like a toddler, but it's not. His body is weak, hurting, and chewing makes him wince, but he's going to make it; refuses to have to rely on the feeding tube again.

His father comes and goes, looking concerned, looking angry; there are so many emotions, that he can hardly tell what's going on.

“Jacky.” he calls him. But it's not right, it's not his name. 

He wants to ask why he's so upset. He survived, his father should be happy. There's something he's missing, something so very important.

When they release him into his father's care, his siblings are ecstatic, help him into his room, and check on him so often that he wants to scream. There is something odd about his room, like it hasn't changed since he was sixteen. He wants to ask his sister, instead she prattles on about her day, and school, and how great it is to see him recovering so well. 

On Sunday, when they all sit down for breakfast, he remembers. There was someone else in the car with him, though he can't remember who. When he asks his father the room goes silent, and he knows he upset them somehow.

“A french exchange student.” His father tells him that they met in college, that they became great friends, hanging out at his place every so often. Then his father sighs and tells him how sorry he is, and that his friend didn't make it. The driver hit him dead on. 

It's a lie. His mind supplies, it can't be right, because the nurses told him that the driver had hit him full force and that the passenger-side had been almost untouched. He doesn't ask why his father is lying to him. The mood has shifted and he doesn't want to upset him further.

When breakfast is over, his father helps him back into his room, and sits down next to him. With a heavy sigh his father pulls him into a hug, holding him close, almost a bit too tight.

“Don't ever do that again.” And he promises. It won't ever happen again. He'll be careful. 

Satisfied his father nods, and with a quick pat on his shoulder, rises and leaves the room. 

 

It's odd, but there's no computer or phone is room, nothing he could use to contact anyone. Any of his friends. He doesn't really remember all of them, but he's convinced that he'll will once he talks to them. So he asks his father for his phone. His father's face turns cloudy, and he explains that it was crushed in the crash, but he'll go get a new one for him. When he asks for a computer his father replies that he should be resting, not playing around on the internet. 

He wants to tell his father that this is important. That he doesn't remember his friends, and that he needs to reconnect with them. But for some reason he doesn't dare. Something about the look on his father's face has his heart beating faster, and his stomach in knots.

His father brings him a new phone the next day, a cheap one with no internet, promising they'll get a nice new one once he's all better, and adds all the contacts that he needs to know. His family, and no one else. 

His health is slowly improving. His jaw still hurts, but the pain is fading into the background, his ribs, broken in the crash, only hurt when he makes a wrong movement. He wants to go out, take a walk, and get some fresh air. Being confined to the house has been slowly driving him crazy.

His siblings are doing their best to keep him entertained. Telling him all about their day, playing games with him, or watching TV together. And even though they're trying so hard, he's slowly going out of his mind. 

On a sunny day he asks his father, if they could go for a walk. Just a short one, not too far from the house. His father looks displeased, but agrees with him. Saying as a young man, and laying in bed all day will only help with his recovery so much.

It's a very short walk. His father keeps his arm around him the entire time, keeps glancing around, and hurries him back to the house as soon as he deems it acceptable. 

He wants to ask what's wrong, but his siblings pull him towards the living room, going on about how exhausted he must be, and cuddle up to him on the couch. They're watching a movie, Disney, he thinks. And there's a pang in his heart. He's seen this movie before. Several times. There was always someone sitting next to him, with his arm around him. Someone tall, with strong arms, smelling like earth and fine wine. 

When he asks his sister, if he ever mentioned a partner, girlfriend, boyfriend, either one, she turns pale and then quickly shakes her head; looking scared for a second. 

They're lying to him. Again. 

This whole situation screams wrong, although he doesn't know why. His family is keeping things from him. He wonders if that french exchange student was his lover, and they were trying to spare him the pain. 

He decides to ask his father.

The moment he posed the question he can see that it was the wrong thing to say. In an instant his father is upon him, clutching his jaw, making him whimper in pain. Stars are dancing in front of his eyes, and his ears are ringing. He claws at his father's hand, to no avail.

“Don't you dare.” His father says. “No son of mine is gay. Do you understand?”

He nods, shaking. He's terrified, and memories come rushing back. He remembers being younger, his father smacking him when he tells him that he's gay. Remembers his father sending him away to bible camp, not listening to his begging and pleading, telling him to return normal, or else. Remembers hiding boyfriends from him, and how when his father found out, he locked him in his room for days.

He hides in his room. Refusing to come down, unless it's time to eat. His siblings know that something bad happened, ducking away every time their father enters the room. 

Every now and then his father will come into his room. Explaining to him that “It's for your own good, Jacky. I'm your father. I know what's good for you.”, and he wants to object, tell his father that this treatment is in no way good for him, but he's terrified. He's weak, his jaw has been hurting badly ever since his father grabbed him, and there's no one he could turn to. 

 

He grows despondent. Sleeps most of the time, barely eats, or talks to his siblings.

It must have been weeks when his sister sneaks into his room, laptop clutched in her hands. She's shaking, being as quiet as humanly possible. She hands him her laptop, and tells him that she'll be outside, standing watch. It's incredibly brave of her, he thinks. Not knowing what their dad will do to her, when he finds out. Do to him.

He opens up a browser and tries to remember his email account, his password, and everything else. It takes a few tries, but he manages to make it. His inbox is flooded with emails. A lot of them from the same three names “A.Ham”, “Herc”, and “Lafayette”. None of these names mean anything to him.

Their emails are panicked, asking where he went, what happened, why no one in the hospital will let them see him. In a flash it comes back to him. These are his friends, his best friends, and his lover. 

He's breathing hard. He'd known something was off the whole time. His family had lied to him, he hadn't had any contact with them for years. He'd left home as soon as he turned eighteen, and never looked back, occasionally sending emails to his siblings. They hadn't known what was wrong. He never told them, and he could only imagine the things his father told them. 

He needs to reply. His father could find out any moment. He sends a message to the three of them, saying he's at his father's house, and to please come and get him.

When he's done he hands the laptop back to his sister, kisses her cheek, and gives her a hug. She clings to him like a lost child. They hadn't seen each other in person for months, he remembers, the last time being a meeting in New York, when she had told their father that she was going on a trip to meet with a friend. They spent hours talking to each other, catching up. Sitting in his apartment, watching a movie, while Lafayette made dinner.

Lafayette. 

The french exchange student. The thought makes him laugh. Lafayette had indeed been an exchange student, but fell in love with America, and him, and decided to stay for good. 

As stealthy as possible he packs most of his things, hides them in a duffel bag under his bed, waiting for his friends to pick him up. His sister checking his emails for him, telling him that they were organizing a “rescue party”, that they would arrive soon, and this would all be over.

It doesn't happen like that. 

 

His siblings are all in on the plan to get him out. His sister having told them what happened, that their father had been lying to them. So they all decided to get him away from their father. 

On the day his friends are supposed to pick him up, their father gets home earlier than usual; sending them all into a panic. His siblings try to distract his father, but the man can tell that something is wrong. His father sends them away, grabbing him by his arm and pulling him close.

“What's going on, Jacky?” he asks, voice dropping into a growl. “What did you do to your siblings?”

In that moment the doorbell rings, and time comes to a halt. He can see the realization in his father's eyes. 

“You ungrateful bastard.” with a shove his father sends him to the floor. “After everything I've done for you!”

Someone must have opened the door, because suddenly there are people in the room. His father is being pulled away from him, and someone sends him flying with a strong right hook. 

“Are you okay?” Someone is crouching next to him. Alexander, his best friend. “John? Can you hear me?”

And suddenly it feels right again. He isn't Jack, hasn't been in years. 

“Yeah, I'm okay.” he croaks, earning himself a look of disbelief and a snort. Alex helps him to his feet, telling Lafayette, who has been beating John's father, and Herc, trying to hold him back, to come help him. In an instant Lafayette is next to him, pulling him in his arms and showering him with kisses.

His sister, bless her, shows Herc where he hid his duffel bag. 

Alex is busy threatening his father, telling him that if he ever lays hand on John, or his siblings, again, he'd ruin him. Having collected enough dirt on John's father to ruin his career.

They load him, and his siblings, into their van. They drop off his siblings at their father's third wife, a reasonable and kind woman, having left their father soon after their child was born. 

 

He's so exhausted. Lafayette is telling him that they had been in a crash, that the car had hit him head on, and that the paramedics had taken him to the ICU. For unknown reasons, now knowing that it had been John's father, they were kept from him, being told that only family was allowed to visit. And when they had finally managed to find a lawyer and get all the papers to see him, he was gone. They had searched everywhere for him, asked around, but none of them had considered that his father could have taken him.

There's so much he wants to say, so much he wants to ask. But for now he's content to cling to Lafayette, listening as he recounts what happened.

It's going to take a while to recover, he knows that much. As he breathes in the smell of earth and fine wine, he knows he's safe.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of rain falling, someone pacing, and frantic muttering. The first thing he becomes aware of is that there is someone in the room with him. The second is that there is something wrong with him. His head hurts, he can't open his eyes, and his limbs feel heavy. 

The door slides open and another person comes into his room, talking to the first person in hushed tones, trying to calm him down. He wants to ask what happened, why he can't move, but his body won't obey him. 

The next time he wakes up, he forces his eyes open, staring at a white ceiling. Something is beeping on his right side, and someone is holding his hand. When that person notices he's awake, he starts talking to him, but the words don't reach him. They try again and again, and finally he understands. 

There was a car crash. He was injured, and they brought him to a hospital. But he hadn't been alone in the car.

His friend, Alex, little, fast-paced Alex, he remembers, keeps asking him questions, telling him things, but he can't keep up. His mind still numb, probably with painkillers, but he manages to catch one word.

John.

He was in the car with him. Was he injured in the crash? Is he okay? Where is he? He wants to ask, but he can barely move his tongue. Frustrated he tugs on Alexander's hand, trying to get his attention, to get him to understand. And somehow he does. 

“They're not letting me see him.” Alex explains, looking down at their joined hands, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb. “But they said he's stable.”

Why would they not let Alex see John? They have been joined by the hip for as long as he can remember. There was never a time when Alex let someone stop him from getting to John and vice-versa. What happened?

“Only family allowed.” he says. But we are his family, he wants to point out. They have been his family ever since they met. It's no secret that John had left his family, and avoided all contact with them.

“The nurses are trying to contact his father.” 

For one dizzying moment all the air is sucked out of the room, leaving him unable to breath, lungs burning, and the world spinning. Henry Laurens was not supposed to come here. He had no right. After everything that he managed to coax from John, that man had absolutely no business being in the hospital, let alone get to his son. But yet, he was his father. A senator holding all the power, all the money, with the blood relation to the one person they couldn't get to. 

He wants to get up, get to John, but his body screams when he tries to move, and the pain almost causes him to pass out. The beeping on his right gets louder and the door opens as a nurse walks in with a disapproving look on her face.

She explains to him that the monitor keeps track of his stats, since he has a severe concussion and was out of it for two days. His arm is broken, and he is bruised all over. But the head injury had worried the doctor, and he couldn't remember waking up before, so they probably had a good reason to. He wants to ask when he'll be released, when he'll see John, and he can't, but Alex, precious Alex, is asking all the right questions.

He'll be just fine. He'll be able to leave in a few days, if the doctor clears him. And no, they can't see John, only family is allowed to visit. 

Alex starts to protest, but the nurse tells him that she doesn't have time to deal with him, that there are patients that need to be taken care of, and that he should probably talk to John's family, or a lawyer, if they want to see him. With that she leaves, leaving Alex speechless.

Soon after the nurse left, Hercules walks in. Looking tired and worn, but brightens when he sees that he's awake.

“Lafayette.” He can't remember someone saying his name with such relief. “It's so good to see you're awake.”

As Alex relays the information they got from the nurse, Hercules' face darkens. He'd been trying to see John, he tells them, but his family wouldn't let him. He'd spoken to John's doctor, a calm, but rather distant man, but was told that Senator Laurens had called and told him that “his son doesn't need to meet any of his ruffian friends”, and to spread the message to stay away. He's trying to separate John from his friends, trying to isolate him. 

It makes his blood boil. 

Alexander immediately starts pacing, making plans, talks loud and fast, while Hercules sits there, holding Lafayette's hand, clinging to it like it's all a dream and he's still unconscious, unresponsive. He wonders what it must have been like for his friends, both him and John in the hospital, one passed out and the other out of reach. He squeezes Hercules' hand, and resigns to watching Alex make plans and call lawyers.

Days pass, and he is allowed to leave the hospital. Alexander and Hercules pick him up, take him to his, their, apartment. Alexander admits to having moved most of his stuff there, so that he can take care of him and John when they get back. But John isn't here, and they are still not allowed to see him. The only thing they know is that he's still in the hospital, still being treated, but stable. And there's nothing he can do. He is still in pain, body aching all the time, the room spinning when he moves to abruptly. But Hercules and Alex are there. Always taking care of him.

It's been well over a week when Alex comes back from the lawyer, victorious, telling them that within the next few days they should receive the necessary papers to let them see John. How he managed to make this miracle work, no one knows, but Lafayette wants to kiss him. As it turns out Alexander's mentor and their mutual friend, Washington, pulled some strings, talked to the right people, and helped him. 

He doesn't even know where to start thanking these people, all of his friends, going out of their way to take care of him, and John, he's going to see John. 

But when they arrive at the hospital he's gone.

He was discharged, is what the nurses tell them. It's his worst nightmare come true. He almost passes out right then and there, his ears ringing, room spinning, as Hercules grabs his arm and gently guides him to a chair. A nurse comes over to check on him, chiding him, telling him not to strain himself so much. That even though he's been allowed to go home, it doesn't mean he's perfectly healthy, and that he still needs to rest.

He wants to yell at her. How dare she let John go? Where did he go, and why did no one contact them? But his throat is dry, and his head hurts. Everything is wrong. There is no way John would leave without contacting them. He checks his phone, but no messages, no missed calls, nothing.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Alex butting heads with one of the doctors, but he already knows it's no use. John's gone, and they have no idea where he went. 

 

His head hurts, has been, since they learned that John was gone, there had been no hint of him. But he's trying not to show it, focusing on other things. He's been sending messages to John's email, tried to call his phone, leaving what feels like a thousand messages, call-me-back's, and I love you's. Searched all over the city. Alex and Hercules are searching for him in their favorite spots, their old apartment, their friends' apartments, but nothing. Nothing at all. 

Neither Alexander nor Hercules know what to do, running from lawyer to lawyer, threatening the hospital, taking care of Lafayette. Nothing, no news. Washington has been trying to help, contacting people, asking questions, but John has vanished from the face of the earth. 

It feels like he'll never see him again. He falls into bouts of depression. Hates the world, hates himself. He has no energy, stares out the window, doesn't eat, everything is gray and dead. It's Hercules who sits down with him, manages to make him eat something. It's Alex who keeps rushing into the room to sit next to him, telling him his latest theories and his newest ideas on how to find John, pushing him to ask questions, to demand answers.

He's not going to give up, he decides, as he watches Alex yell into his phone yet again, berating the person on the other end over their lack of help. He's going to get better, and he's going to search for him, he decides, as Hercules comes back from another search for John, looking drained and dead on his feet. 

 

The process of getting better is exhausting. Hercules comes over almost every evening, helping him, listen to him curse and whine, when everything gets too much, feels to unfair. Part of him knows that some of it is due to the accident, that he still hasn't completely recovered, and that the pain killers make him emotionally unstable, the other part knows that without John he's a mess. They have gotten so used to being with each other all the time, that he doesn't know how to be on his own anymore. 

Neither do Alexander or Hercules. Alexander basically moved in, and Hercules is starting to move his things. They used to joke about moving in together, living in a house, all four of them, but Hercules used to complain that he didn't want to listen to them getting it on, and watching their PDA all day, laughing as he said it. And even though Lafayette used to complain that, if they were to move in, they'd probably get on each others nerves, he's grateful that they are here with him.

 

It's an early Saturday morning when Alexander wakes them, roughly shaking them awake from where they've passed out on the couch. He's frantic, talking a mile an hour, as they stare at him bleary-eyed and confused. When Hercules tells him to calm down, he basically throws his phone at him, telling them to read.

It's a message from John. A short message telling them where to find him, and to please come and get him. 

They respond immediately asking him if he's okay, when to pick him up, and all kinds of questions. Alexander is halfway out the door, before Hercules can wrangle him back on the couch. Lafayette is frozen, staring at the phone, waiting for an answer. There's no reply, there won't be one for hours. And when it does arrive, it's not from John, but from his sister, telling them that John is confined to his room, and that they really need to get him. That their father took away all means of communications, and that something is wrong.

He feels incredibly stupid. All this time John had been with his father. And none of them had even thought of that possibility. They had assumed with how much Henry Laurens despised the fact that his son was gay, and how often he'd told John to never come home again, that he'd sent him away, hiding him like a dirty secret, a shame to be kept out of the public's eye. And they had been so wrong. 

This time he's the one halfway out the door before Hercules grabs him, dragging him back to the couch. He should be happy that his friend is the reasonable, calm one in times like these. But instead he's just annoyed that he's keeping him from John. When Hercules points out that they can't just storm in and take John, he wants to disagree, but he's right. Henry Laurens could call the police, and then they'd never get to see John. So he sighs, huddles with Alex on the couch and waits for more news from John's sister.

The siblings are helping him get John out. They all realized that their father had lied to them, that something was wrong, and that they needed to get John out. It takes another week of careful planning before they can make their move. 

Everything is carefully set up, everyone knows what to do. An easy get-in, grab John, and leave.

When they ring the doorbell they hear yelling, and a crash, and suddenly the door flies open, a teenager staring at them with panic in his eyes. 

Before he knows what he's doing he's in the room, seeing Henry towering over John, on the ground ducking his head, hand drawn back, and suddenly he's on him. Sending Henry flying with a right hook, and another one, sending the man the man crashing to the floor. Strong arms are grabbing him and pulling him back, Hercules, his mind supplies, and he wants to yell at him to let go. But he catches John out of the corner of his eye, being pulled to his feet by Alex, looking bruised and tired, but happy. In an instant he's there, pulling John into his arms, showering him with kisses. John clings to him, buries his head in his neck, breathing in deeply. 

Alex is busy threatening Henry Laurens, and Hercules disappeared, but none of that matters right now. All that matters is that John is in his arms, safe and sound. He'll make sure nothing like that will ever happen again.

When they leave, they take John's siblings with them. They shouldn't be left with their father, and one of Henry's numerous ex-wives will take them in, already getting ready to sue for custody, after a long phone call from John. After they drop them off, they drive home, explaining to John what happened. In return he tells them that he had issues remembering what was going on, who they were, and that he hadn't realized something was wrong until Henry started acting suspiciously. 

It breaks his heart, knowing that Henry had taken advantage of his son's state, taken him with him, and kept him from them. John's jaw is horribly bruised and he winces with every bump in the road, and Hercules insists on going to the hospital, but John doesn't want to, is so stubborn about it that Herc gives in after seeing the haunted look in John's eyes. For now they let him be, but in the morning they will take him to the hospital, kicking and screaming, if necessary.

The alarm clock shows 6 am, glaring bright red. He doesn't know what woke him up, but when he turns to hug John, he isn't there. He's awake in an instant, panic spreading through his body. He knows that John should be in the apartment somewhere, but his mind is conjuring all kinds of scenarios. Always going back to Henry towering above John, hand raised, ready to strike. 

The sound of quiet footsteps break his train of thoughts. He can barely make out a silhouette in the half-light of the room, slowly, care-fully moving back to the bed. Standing there, reaching out for him. When he grabs the hand, John gasps, probably caught unaware that he had been awake. He pulls him down on to the bed, pulling him tight against his body. 

“I just needed to check.” John whispers, pressing his face into the crook of Lafayette's neck. “That it wasn't just a dream. That I'm really here.”

“You are.” Lafayette promises. His heartbeat is still racing, but the familiar scent and the curls tickling his neck are starting to calm him down. He can't grasp how he even managed to sleep without John. 

“I couldn't remember you.” John whispers, sounding apologetic, a bit like a lost child, and Lafayette wants to drive back to the house, grab Henry and beat him senseless, lock him up to rot somewhere. Never to be seen again.

“It's okay, mon cher.” He says, stroking John's hair. “It's not your fault. You were injured. And that... man hid the truth from you.”

“I trusted him.” John says, voice small. Something wet runs down Lafayette's neck. Tears, he realizes. “I really did.” 

“I know.” He replies, shifting so he can look into John's eyes. “Any child would trust their parent.”

“I should have known better.” He sounds so bitter, hurt, that Lafayette wants to stay right there in bed with him, wrapped in blankets, for all eternity.

They will have to deal with this, will have to talk about what happened, but for now they're content just to be with each other. Soon they will have to get up, go to the hospital, despite John's protests. His jaw covered in ugly bruises, and still flinching every time someone or something came in contact with his ribs.

 

They recover bit by bit. There are still moments when everything is too much, too loud, too quiet. At first John has problems with being alone, with the doors being closed, with not knowing where everyone is all the time. It gets better, even though he's still scared that he will forget them again. The doctors told him he'd recovered, that it was only temporary, but every now and then he'll remember what it was like not knowing his lover, his friends, and he gets terrified.

It's Hercules, who sits down with him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and holding him close, a solid presence in all this chaos. He listens to John, tries to help, but he knows that this is not something that can be magically fixed over night. So he tells John to get therapy, see someone who knows how to help with John's problems. And of course John isn't pleased, he complains loudly and at length, but after flinching from Alex when he absent-mindedly raised his hand to brush a stray pie crumb from his cheek, he decides that it is time. 

Lafayette goes with him sometimes, talking about his own experience, his own fears and nightmares. Together they manage, falling back into old patterns, slowly ever so slowly moving on from what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this can be read as the ending to this story, I'm not quite finished with it. And it's a tad bit too "Happy Ever After" for my taste, and I do want to explore the aftermath of what happened a bit more in depth, so I'll probably write another chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm totally thinking about continuing this, maybe...


End file.
